![]() His first collection of poems, The Frost Fairs (Salt), won the Polari First Book Prize in 2012 and was a Book of the Year for The Independent. Like it, too, belongs there like a bright fish rising to feed. ![]() I watch as rain streamsįrom lopped-back elms, my face teeming with waterĪnd―hello stranger―my soul glides to my surface I pick up snails and transport them to safer earth ![]() Of myself near in case I start a banquet. My teeth knocking so fast I daren’t hold any piece I pour across each marginĪnd nothing has enough hands to catch me, Without light, I’m all membrane each partīecomes a gate. Like when buttercups repair a morning’s jagged edge. It is closest to the air at certain moments, If I could, I would lift aside a curtain of this fleshĪnd demonstrate, but for now it is my private neon. It’s true: there is a light at the centre of my body. ![]() Here’s one of the poems you can hear him read and discuss. John McCullough is the next guest on the podcast talking his Costa Book Awards shortlisted poetry collection, Reckless Paper Birds published by Penned in the Margins. ![]()
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